A Brand New Day

My favorite part of the day is waking up; opening my eyes and realizing it's a brand new day! Sounds like a coffee commercial.

I step out of bed and take those first few steps and say, "Thank you God!" And then I hold the post at the foot of the bed to make sure I can stand up okay. (This is an old habit that goes back to a few years ago when I broke my foot; back when I thought I would never be able to stand without pain.) But those days are gone. Instead I'm ready to start the day by thinking ahead immediately of what is coming up.

I read a great book for my book club this month called The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. It is told in the first person by a dog who's master is a race car driver. Not only does it have a good storyline, but the main character, the dog, is delightful, smart, and very spiritual. He's says at one point that since God didn't give him a human tongue to communicate with then he should at least have a voice synthesizer like the one Stephen Hawkins uses.

A point the author makes is that a race driver is always thinking ahead, not focused on what is happening but already anticipating what is going to happen. In a curve for example, the driver is already looking at the next curve preparing for it and since he already saw the curve he's in now, he doesn't have to focus on it and can look ahead. But he must be prepared to react to the unknown.

This is not unlike sewing a straight seam with a sewing machine. I'm not looking at the needle as it goes into the material. I'm watching the guide. Or when I bowl, I aim for the pins by looking at them not where I'm throwing the ball.

It's a pretty easy concept to grasp but I guess I just never thought about how much we apply it to our everyday lives. I'm putting my foot down and taking the first step of the day, but I'm focused on what is going to happen today, not that step I'm taking.

This week I had the privilege of seeing my granddaughter, Paige, experiment in throwing a rubber ball. We were down in the basement changing the laundry when she found an old blue ball, one you find for $2 in a wire bend at the grocery store. At one time we had a bunch of them, all assorted colors to have on hand to toss, kick, and roll around the yard/patio. But this was the last one and she found it tucked away in a corner.

She said, "You want to catch the ball Mimi?" And I said, "Of course." So she tossed the ball to me and as she did she wasn't looking at me, just throwing the ball. I realized I had an opportunity to teach her the art of throwing a bouncy ball and so I explained to her that if she would focus on me and my hands poised to catch the ball, instead of looking at the ball, she would most likely throw it right into my hands. I was glad it worked.

The delight on her face when I caught it was almost as amazing as the delight on my face when I threw the ball back to her and she caught it. She had been able to reverse the process without me teaching her, by looking at the ball instead of me, she caught it every time. Only a few throws later, she wanted to move on to making the ball bounce before catching it.

It was a tiny bit of my time, but a big step in her growth, learning to focus on what's ahead and learn to react to sudden moves or changes. Simple tasks we adults take for granted not unlike getting up every morning to a new day. Stay focused, be prepared for all the curves, and yet rest assured that with God I can react to the surprises with grace and joy. Not unlike that which I witnessed in the eyes of a child.